


Kitchen counters are for food

by NinaNirina



Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Cunnilingus, Eating out, Established Relationship, F/M, Kinktober, improper use of kitchen furniture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26766334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinaNirina/pseuds/NinaNirina
Summary: There’s something uniquely exciting about sitting on surfaces you are not supposed to sit on. The meeting room’s table, the top of the Nomad while Gil curses, the stacks of crates on the cargo bay, kitchen counters...Like,Evfra’skitchen counter, specifically.
Relationships: Evfra de Tershaav/Female Ryder | Sara, Evfra de Tershaav/Ryder
Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950898
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	Kitchen counters are for food

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted my first work on AO3 to be some fluff about a popular pairing, but you know what ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> I am following the Kinktober prompts of [wickedwitchofthewilds](https://wickedwitchofthewilds.tumblr.com/), but out of order because I like some harmless acts of rebellion.  
> Today's kink: **Eating out!**

The sunbeams dripping from the half-opened blinds of the kitchen windows draw little golden specks on Evfra’s blue skin. As he moves, absent-minded, the specks travel across him like glimmering water. Sara spies him from behind the door frame, still and quiet, afraid of disturbing the only moments in which he looks peaceful. Without the frown of displeasure, and the tension of his shoulders completely gone, Evfra just looks like a man who enjoys cooking breakfast instead of a soldier soured from endless battles. And it makes her smile sadly, in a mixture of longing and affection that she is unable to categorize.

“Are you planning on stabbing me on the back, or are you suddenly shy?” His voice is low, but it still startles her nonetheless. Oh well, she was never good at stealth.

“What are you doing up so early, it’s your day _off_ ,” she mumbles in between a yawn, bare feet dragging across the floor into the kitchen. “There’re a couple of reasons you have days off, y’know; said reasons being _‘the bags under your eyes’_ ,” she points out, before sniffing in the air. Something smells good and her nose can’t decide if it’s the food or Evfra’s musky scent.

He gives her a side glance, blue eyes darting up and down her body, perhaps hanging a bit too much on her bare legs.

“What is the point of having the entire day free if I am not going to use it.” It’s not a question, but a firm statement of his decidedly _cranky old man customs_ , as Sara calls them.

She snorts and, with a swift movement, jumps to sit on the kitchen counter, next to where he is chopping food. The reaction is immediate: Evfra stops dicing the vegetables, the entirety of his body freezing all motor functions. Just two slit pupils move quickly to pierce through her with passionate disapproval. 

Ah, yes, the _get off my counter, you alien invader_ stare.

Yet Sara smiles, sheepish, and rubs the sleep off her eyes instead. Each movement remarkably slower than the last, drawing that angaran patience thin.

“What are you cooking?” she asks, blatantly ignoring Evfra’s bioelectric field already tingling on her skin with annoyance.

He seems to take a moment to consider his possibilities. Murdering her has already been off the list for a while. But maybe a small corrective…? One of his hands brush the exposed skin of her thigh, like a caress, and Sara eagerly leans towards his touch. It almost makes him feel sorry beforehand. Almost.

**_Zap!_ **

“Ouch, you ass!” she cries out, scrambling away from him and rubbing at the spot of skin where he sent the pulse.

“Get off the counter,” he states, and resumes his chopping activities as if nothing had happened.

But seconds pass, and Sara is still there. Big, bright eyes pinned on him, staring in silence. _Silence_. Evfra stops once again, setting the knife aside, and turns to look at her. Silence is never an option with Sara, and Evfra finds a wave of guilt and worry wash over him: was the pulse too rough for a human?

“Did I hurt—” he starts, but holds his tongue the moment his eyes meet hers.

There’s no pain nor anger on her features. Her lips are slightly parted, and she quickly licks them while keeping eye-contact. From this close, her round alien pupils appear like bottomless pools of black water, and Evfra feels an immediate vertigo on the core of his body, as if he’s standing on the edge of her eyes, waiting to jump and be swallowed whole.

And _oh_ , does he know what that breathless expression of hers mean.

They share the silence as his thumb finds the spot on her thigh it previously hurt, this time to draw small circles. A question, and an apology. Sara scoots closer again, a content sigh leaving her parted lips. An answer, and an invitation.

Evfra raises a brow and ditches his work, breakfast be damned; his hands far more interested in rediscovering the softness of her skin. He moves in front of her, and she opens her legs to make room for him, all smiles and hooded eyes.

“Hey there, handsome,” she whispers, hands keen to curl on his shirt to pull him closer.

But Evfra doesn’t kiss her yet. He leans forward, close, _very close_ , but not enough. Breathes her scent in, runs his hands up and down her upper legs. And sends a warm, gentle pulse to her with his bioelectric field. The way Sara shivers under his touch is captivating, with her eyes closing and her mouth opening for him, for a kiss she’s patiently waiting for. He takes pity; or maybe he falls to temptation. Either way, he’s eager to catch her sighs in his mouth, tongue already knowing the path between her lips. She’s warm and sweet and fresh, and soon the kiss deepens to the point they are both trying to steady their breaths against each other.

Evfra’s hands move upward, catching on the clothing that barely covers Sara –a _dress_ , she called it? His fingers dig under the cloth, reaching her hips, where he sets a firm grip to yank her closer, and _stars above_ her little whimper is something he never gets tired of hearing. He needs to breathe and drink all of her at the same time, so his lips leave her mouth, trailing along her jaw instead. She tilts her head up, offering the throat like a present he is more than welcome to accept.

Sara’s pulse is erratic and thrumming on her ears, ragged breaths breaking free after the kiss. If she could ask for a last wish, it would be one of Evfra’s passionate kisses. All warmth and lust and _comfort_ , intertwined in ways she never thought could even fit together. Her senses burst like little bubbles, and she is not sure if it’s Evfra’s wet tongue dragging along her neck, or his bioelectricity echoing under her skin.

She pulls herself even closer, flush against his firm body, and wraps her legs around his torso. A low rumble vibrates on his chest, approving, encouraging. She smiles, wiggling her hips and drawing out another of those groans from him. Like an oversized kitten, purring on her arms. But she keeps the secret to herself, instead running her fingers through his chest, palms descending to his middle, stopping at the edge where their bodies are joined together.

Evfra drags his teeth upwards to the side of her neck, and finds the tenderness of her earlobe. He catches it between his lips, earning a sweet hushed moan from Sara. She grinds herself again against him, legs tightening their grip.

“Evfra,” she murmurs, followed by something his translator doesn’t catch.

He frees her skin from his mouth, nuzzling at her cheek on the way back to find her eyes. They hold each other’s gaze, panting and flushed and dishevelled. And just when Evfra is about to dive in for another kiss, Sara turns her head to look away with a nervous smile, a sudden display of embarrassment.

Evfra cocks a brow. Well, _that_ is new.

“Look at me,” he says, and it’s too gentle to be called an order. Sara chuckles and tries to comply, but her eyes fail to meet his. Evfra reaches for her face, hand tilting her chin up. He doesn’t let her budge, steel on both his grip and stare. “Look at me,” he repeats. “What do you want?”

She swallows, hard, and her lips tremble. “Can you…?” she trails off, licking her lips in anticipation. Evfra waits, excitement making his field snap and buzz on the edges of his skin. Sara seems to feel this too, and all of her body quivers again. The last push to bravery. “ _Fuck._ Evfra, can you eat me out? Here, just— I want you to…”

He doesn’t let her finish. His mouth finds hers once again, desperate to capture the little moans and whimpers she is starting to spill all over. There’s an unexpected thrill in hearing her plea; where angarans are vocal on their desires and pleasure, humans seem to shy away for the most part, and as such, Sara rarely asks to be pleased.

And oh, how much he wants to _devour_ her until she asks again and again.

Both his hands return under the warmth of her clothing, lifting the skirt and curling his fingers on the edges of her underwear. He gives them a sharp tug, and smirks when Sara offers a little cry against his mouth.

“Get them off, get them _off,_ ” she mutters against him, breaking away from the kiss to lift herself up and help him take off the clothing. He pulls it down her legs with reverence almost, hands encompassing every inch of smooth skin, little tingles of static following his movements.

Sara takes a sharp breath, her body too hot, too sensitive, too aware of every spot Evfra touches, kisses, licks. His field is overwhelming, like whispers along her flesh, the memory of his past affections still ghosting across her. She parts her legs wider the moment he kneels between them, impatience building up in the pit of her stomach. She knows she’s making a mess already; she can feel the wetness pooling out of her cunt, the hot throbbing of her body that wants, _that needs_ , Evfra to calm it down.

And he notices, the _bastard_ , nibbling at the tender flesh of the inside of her thighs, thumbs caressing her higher and higher –but stopping before reaching her core. She feels herself clench every time his breath hovers over her cunt, and the huffs of frustration start to bubble up in her throat, threatening to burst in protests.

But Evfra knows her well, and as soon as she opens her mouth to complain, a sharp pulse of electricity knocks the wind out of her lungs. Her back arches, and Sara has to lean on her elbows, gasping for air. His mouth finally, _finally_ , captures her sex, hot tongue dragging flat along her slit, tasting her, relishing on the broken sobs that pour out of her mouth.

From between her legs, he glances up, his eyes two storms engulfed by the blackness of his pupils, and Sara finds herself drifting in the immense void of his gaze. She wants to keep looking, because _fuck he looks perfect_ eating her with that feverish hunger, but his lips catch her swollen clit and her eyes close shut, unable to focus. He strokes her whole, and then just flickers at her clit, and gods she jerks her hips up and _he lets_ her grind herself on his face, the vibration of his groans only encouraging her to chase her pleasure.

She knows she’s trying to form words; pleas or his name, or just sounds that escape her burning throat. And whatever it is, Evfra seems to like it, because a loud growl rumbles on his chest, subvocals deepening as he grips her hips fiercely, and brings her forward to his face, textured tongue parting her folds and dipping inside her entrance. Sara begs, something, _anything_ , and he hums while inside her, drinking from each flutter of her cunt, ecstatic before the litany of sounds he’s drawing out of her beautiful mouth.

Her legs shake, thighs closing against the sides of his cowl, and Evfra trails his tongue back to her clit, mouth encircling it and sucking and _there_ , how lovely she sounds chanting his name and urging him to _please don’t stop_. He swirls first and then flattens his tongue again, following the lead of her moans. He tries a finger against her dripping entrance, and Sara shouts a _yes_ that makes him smile against her. He quickens the pace, his finger already entering her with ease, her walls clinging to him in short spasms. She’s almost there; she’s arching her back and he knows, because how can he not have learnt by heart all of her pretty little cries?

Evfra curls his finger up and yes, _yes_ , Sara sees the burst of a star on the back of her mind, little sparks of electricity stinging in the most delicious ways all over her body. She shatters with a long, desperate whine, her orgasm flowing through and igniting every nerve inside her. The path of flames becomes a second too bright, before dying out and leaving just embers.

Bliss clouds her over stimulated senses, a comforting blanket under which she wants to snuggle and disappear. Loved and cared and very, very satisfied.

The sunbeams that peak from the blinds of the kitchen windows now dance across Sara’s face. A sigh leaves her lips, and a smile settles at the feeling of Evfra’s gentle kisses along her belly. She wriggles, trying to sit up straight, and he helps her without a word. She cherishes the sight of his swollen lips, of the wetness he’s licking from the corners of his mouth, and the way he’s half-smiling with a pride he’s not good at hiding.

She throws her arms lazily around his neck and cowl, leaning in for a quick press of lips. Evfra nuzzles her cheek and then brings their foreheads together, features calm and almost tender, a rare vision Sara knows it’s only for hers to behold.

“You’ve made a mess on my counter,” he breaks the silence, and Sara snorts, too amused to even pretend to be embarrassed.

“Yeah, well, next time try not to be such a messy eater?” she teases, and it’s his turn to chuckle, face hiding on the crook of her neck.

He leaves a couple of kisses there, before trying to pull away. But the second he parts, Sara’s legs wrap around his waist again. Evfra steadies himself, taken aback, and raises a brow at her.

“Where are you going?” she asks, her voice hushed and slightly coarse.

“Cleaning?” he attempts, but leans closer, renewed longing bristling at the edges of his field.

Sara smiles, wicked almost, and brushes her lips against his.

“And who said I was done with you, handsome?”

**Author's Note:**

> AHA! If you read all the way through here, you noticed I am not an English speaker!  
> I honestly think Kinktober is the most fun way for me to lose my fear of writing in this language, as well as practicing during a whole month. With luck, by the starts of November I would have improved a little :’D  
> So, did you catch a random sentence? The wrong idiom? A funny typo? Be that person, tell me and help me improve!  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
